


Simple Things

by Talullah



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 13:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2193582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elladan doesn't like talking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Things

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to jaiden_s who is a dear and betaed this piece for me. *smooches*
> 
> fanfic100 prompt 011: Red.
> 
> [Disclaimer/Blanket Statement](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/profile)

**Imladris, 312 Third Age**

Elladan stuck his nose further into the glass. The aromas of the wine seemed more intense now that he had been holding the glass forever, trying to concentrate utterly on each and every trace of it while blurring away his brother's words.

Inhaling deeply, he let the complex aroma permeate him completely until he could see behind his eyelids the landscape of the south, the wild growth of the vines under the sun stretching for acres of promised sweetness. Then he took a sip; it tasted of ripeness, raisins, berries, sun; a faint memory of hay and late September; a tinge of oak-wood bringing forth images of the of cool, odorous shade in some forgotten cellar. He rolled the wine around in his tongue, stretching its taste to every corner of his mouth, separating the flavours and scents, and then aggregating them again into the glorious whole. Elrohir's voice had almost faded. Closing his eyes in rapture, he swallowed the sweet nectar, images of rich reds flooding him as he leant his head back with a small sigh.

"I adore this wine," he said.

Elrohir shattered the burgundy dream with his usual dryness. "Yes, it's a very nice wine but we were addressing another subject."

Elladan kept his eyes closed. "It is not your right to demand entrance in this private matter, and I really do not want to have this conversation." His voice was even, cold, determined and yet polite. He was pleased with himself, or as pleased as one could be under such scrutiny.

Elrohir stayed quiet long enough for Elladan to hope that the subject would be dropped. He even dared peeking from under his sleepy lids, but his brother still sat opposite to him, still examined him hawkish fierceness, and still expected to have the conversation that Elladan was determined to avoid.

Elrohir tried for the soft approach. "There is no harm in discussing it, you know that?" he said tenderly, before leaning forward to touch his brother's hand.

The last thing Elladan needed was physical proximity, especially when used as a means to force the emotional intimacy in which he could not afford to indulge. He rose abruptly. "Well, I'm very happy that you managed to find such a good bargain with this wine. It's truly excellent. I am sure father and mother are enjoying it too."

He moved to the fireplace and poked the logs absently. Damned fool, he had been for expecting that Elrohir would have simply forgotten about that particular subject in the course of a mere three month absence. And doubly damned considering that he had been the one to invite Elrohir for a chat in his rooms, trapping himself. When they were younger, he could have simply turned the whole thing around into a playful wrestle, but they were grown ups now; they had been so for too long. He stood up, his elbow on the lintel, his forehead on his hand.

"Very well," Elrohir said coldly. "You want us to be strangers, then. You will not talk with father or mother. Arwen is out of the question, of course. What will you do? Shut everyone out forever?"

Elladan stood rigidly, his back still turned to his brother. He heard Elrohir setting his glass down and rising. Good. He would leave then and stop this nonsense.

But Elrohir turned back, of course. His hand on his shoulder, instead of comfort, made him think of a dog holding fast to a bone. "Let me tell you something," Elrohir charged again, "your little secret is neither little nor a secret. I am not the only one with eyes."

Cold, nauseating fear spread from Elladan's stomach to his heart and his knees. "Nothing happened, ever, nor would I let it," he said. Elrohir's warm hand was far from thawing that frost of fear that threatened to cover him whole.

"No, no," Elrohir said softly. "I wasn't accusing you."

Elladan looked to the side, hiding his face. "I can't do a thing about it. I mean a thing more than what I already do," he moaned.

Elrohir rested his chin on Elladan's shoulder. "I know, I know," he tried to comfort. But Elladan needed peace, not comfort, and a hug was not enough to make the hurts go away. Elladan slipped from his brother's touch, feeling as slimy as an eel. He walked to the window and pulled open enough of the heavy curtain to let him stare into the deep darkness.

He heard Elrohir sitting down, then his brother said the unthinkable. "This is not a big drama, you know? No need to waste away in sorrow. At least you have the consolation of knowing that he returns your feelings."

Inside, Elladan's anger overtook fear so swiftly that he felt light-headed. He turned to deliver his sharp reply, but the curtains tangled about him, igniting further his fury.

"You should stay quiet when you don't know that of which you speak. How dare you?" he said, walking briskly up to his brother, fists clenched, shaking slightly. Elrohir shrugged tentatively in a feeble apology.

Elladan raged on. "It's easy for you to sit there and speak of these things. It's just some abstraction in your head. You're not feeling it, not really. You're not the one who is in love with someone you can never have. You're not the one who has to watch him by her side everyday, no matter how hard you try to avoid them. And you think that what little he gives me is some sort of consolation? It's just enough to keep me feeling what I shouldn't instead of forgetting."

Elladan turned again, regretting instantly that he had given so much away. But at the same time he felt light, as if the anger had burned part of the blanket that had oppressed him for so long. The moment took him and he sat back into his chair.

"Mother and father... do they know?"

Elrohir nodded. "They suspect, like I did. You were always unable to hide your emotions."

Elladan sank in the chair. "Did they ask you to do this?"

Elrohir shook his head, with his exasperating parsimony.

"What did they say, then?" Elladan insisted.

"They asked me if you liked someone. Then they asked me if there was some impediment to your love. I'm not exactly stupid, I knew what they meant."

Elladan nodded. He was not stupid either, just unbearably clumsy, too transparent, and utterly... stupid. This would stop immediately. He would find a way to stop loving the person he should have never set his eyes upon. No smile, no conversation, no casual brushing of hands, exchanged glance, shared joke would be allowed henceforth. But in his heart he was scared of two things: of never being able to feel that way again, and of having disgraced himself before his family.

"It's all right," Elrohir said as if reading his thoughts. Sometimes Elladan missed the intimacy that growing up had made uneasy between them, but when it surged spontaneously, it warmed him. Elrohir rose from his chair and sat on the arm of his brother's, holding him in a loose embrace.

"I'm so sorry that you have to feel like this. It will be better one day, I'm sure of it," he said.

Elladan missed being pampered. He also missed being whole, not always torn between what he felt and what he should feel. He hoped that Elrohir was right but he was far from sure.

"You are my brother. You are willing to forgive, forget, ignore, accept things that others are not."

"True." Elrohir snorted, but abstained from further comments. Elladan could very well imagine that some pleasant banter could follow such a comment, and the air would lift and things be hushed and forgotten. But he still needed time, and Elrohir had understood that.

"Thank you," he said, patting his brother's knee.

Elrohir passed him his glass with a new fill of wine and took his own. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked at length.

Elladan shook his head. "They say only time helps in these cases..."

"And distance too. Do you think some time in Lórien would help?"

"I don't know." He did know. Distance would help, time would help, but he felt reluctant to let go of what little he had. It was like that time when he was a child and he had managed to stick a ten inch wood splinter in his forearm. It hurt incredibly, but he had been terribly afraid of letting his father pull it out. Today he had a little scar as only proof it had ever happened. He had always hated analogies and how people used them to simplify that which wasn't simple and extrapolate that which was unpredictable, but this time he wanted to believe it could be, indeed, that simple.

"Do you suppose you could visit me on occasion, while I'm busy in Lórien chasing after some other married elf?" he asked.

Elrohir snorted, but smacked him in the head with his free hand. "I think I can do better than that. And so can you." He dropped his voice. "It will be all right, trust me."

He felt Elrohir was holding back, but it was more than enough for this night. He took another sip of his wine and it felt like liquid strength, a little dose of what he would need in the future.

"It will be fine," he said with a smile. And it would. He just needed a little time.

 

 _Finis_  
_January 2006_


End file.
